


Individuality

by LawrVert



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:28:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27110455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LawrVert/pseuds/LawrVert
Summary: A clone attempts to assassinate Hordak. After he is saved by Entrapta and Emily, they try to help him recover from Prime's conditioning and abuse.
Relationships: Entrapta/Hordak (She-Ra)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 23





	Individuality

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to @whenhumansthinkofhospitality for Beta Reading! If there is any interest in reading more, I may continue this short fic. This is the first thing I've written for She-Ra. I owe @fidelesir for talking me into watching She-Ra! I never expected to love Hordak so much!

Hordak slept soundly for the first time in ages, a deep sleep untroubled by nightmares. In the adjoining chamber, Entrapta was likely still awake working in their makeshift lab. Despite his concern, she rarely slept when engrossed in her work, and there had been so much to keep her busy--the restoration of Etheria and the Scorpion kingdom, the acclimation and placement of hundreds of clones, and her more personal work improving Hordak’s armor and finding ways to improve Etherian medicine and science through the integration of First Ones tech. 

Though at first, the constant noises late at night bothered him, now, the whirs and clicks of machinery had become soothing, a reminder that he wasn’t alone, that Entrapta had stayed and become his beloved friend and companion, far more than just his lab partner. 

After almost a year, he could finally call Scorpia, Bow, Glimmer, Catra, Adora, and the other princesses friends as well. Glimmer had given them an entire wing of her castle for their quarters and workspace, a huge show of trust. Entrapta had never left his side through the ravings and nightmares, the breakdowns and insomnia, and the many setbacks in his recovery. She was always there, a strand of violet hair helping to lift him up, a hand gently caressing his cheek, his brilliant, loving Entrapta, so remarkable in her ability to see beauty in imperfection.  
He was alive and free because she believed in him. 

A small crash echoed through the halls and woke him, nothing remarkable when Entrapta was working with her bots. Her newest one, Julie, a former combat bot, had been repurposed as a medical bot. The only problem was Julie was quite aggressive, insisting every patient receive vitamin injections whether they needed it or not. Entrapta ensured him it was a temporary glitch. 

Rolling over, he saw the shadowy figure an instant before the dagger was pressed to his throat. Heart hammering in his chest, he remained still, knowing it was too late to call for Entrapta or the palace guards. 

“Don’t even think of calling for help. Your day of reckoning is at hand, traitor.” The clone was dressed in an old, tattered uniform in the colors of Horde Prime with nothing to distinguish himself from the other acolytes except for his jutting bones and pale skin stretched as thin as tissue paper. 

“What is your quarrel with me, brother?” Hordak’s rumbling baritone was steady even when facing his death. 

The knife pressed harder, digging into his flesh. “You killed the Master, The Deliverer, The Light. You, who were nothing more than a genetic defect, a mistake, betrayed the one who would Cast out the Shadows.” 

“Imperfections are beautiful!” Entrapta stepped into the light just as he prepared to drive the knife home, tendrils of her hair swatting the weapon from the assailant’s hand and allowing Hordak space to sit up and evade the unceasing blows from the clone’s fists. Hordak knew the crazed being intended to kill him with his bare hands. 

“Julie- This man needs help. Administer sedative.” Entrapta patted a round-bodied droid with sleek silver finish and gave it a push towards the intruder. 

Julie scrambled over to the bed on spidery legs and injected a sedative as well as a vitamin infusion, all too happy to be of use. Within moments, the assassin collapsed on the bed. The commotion alerted the palace guards who raced in to secure the prisoner in restraints. 

“Is he dead?” Hordak asked. 

“No. Of course not, but Julie got so excited that he might be out a while.” Entrapta raised her goggles and wiped away the film of grime underneath them with a strand of hair. 

“You--you saved my life,” Hordak studied her, a grateful expression in his eyes, his love for her growing every moment. 

“You would have done the same thing for me.” Entrapta shrugged and waved an instrument over a cut on his face, sealing it and preventing infection. 

Her hand stroked the healed skin of his prominent cheekbone. “First ones tech,” she explained. 

“What will be done with the prisoner now?” Hordak asked, getting to his feet and flexing an aching wrist.

“He’ll be brought before Queen Glimmer to stand trial for his crime,” the guards explained, lifting the sleeping clone and preparing to carry him to the dungeons. 

“Wait--I will make a plea for his life. Surely, Queen Glimmer will spare him.” Hordak frowned. “It isn’t easy to undo years of conditioning.” 

Entrapta hugged him as tightly as the day they were reunited after Horde Prime’s defeat, arms crushing the breath from him and her hair stroking his arms. 

“We’ll be back to take your statements in the morning. We’ll post an extra security detail to keep you safe.” The older guard nodded to the younger and they left his quarters. 

When they were alone, Entrapta breathed a sigh of relief and leaned against his shoulder.

“Well, since you’re not sleeping anymore, want to help me with my research?” 

Hordak smiled and chuckled warmly. “After all we went through, you still want to work?

“Science never sleeps. I’ll make us some soup and hot tea.” She grinned and held out her hand, tugging him along to the lab, Julie following close behind. 

As Entrapta brought out soups in tiny mugs that always looked comical in his large hands, Hordak felt the troubles of the day, melting away. “The cook is so used to me eating after the kitchen’s closed, he leaves me midnight snacks in a special cupboard.” 

He passed her a hexdriver and watched her from the corner of his eye as he scanned a bit of First Ones tech scavenged from Beast Island. “Maybe the clone is broken. Might be an armor malfunction,” Entrapta suggested.

“The problem isn’t with his body but with his mind,” Hordak replied, so close to being drowned in a tempest of unpleasant memories of loss, pain, and terror. The nightmares would return with a vengeance. 

“I want to study him!” Entrapta blurted out. 

“It’s too dangerous. He’s unstable at best. I won’t allow him to harm you.” Hordak growled and clenched his fist so tightly around a vial that it shattered. Emily rushed to clean up the shards, sweeping them up before retreating to her corner to recharge. 

“We could study him together. Experiment number 542.” Entrapta gestured wildly with her hair. 

“Perhaps if I could speak with him, I could make him see reason.” His red eyes narrowed. 

“You want to save him even though he tried to murder you.” Entrapta studied him, noticing the way his ears were pointed downwards. It had taken her some time to learn to read him, but she recognized his sadness. 

“He deserves a chance at happiness, a chance to form his own identity.” Hordak stood and began to pace, arms clasped behind his back. 

Entrapta collapsed onto the cushions in the corner of the lab and opened her arms. Wordlessly, he sank down beside her, allowing her arms to enfold him. Resting her head over his heart, Entrapta yawned and muttered. “I think science might have to sleep after all.” 

Brushing a bit of hair from her eyes with a fond smile, Hordak whispered, “Indeed.” 

The prisoner had not spoken to anyone or moved other than glaring at the guards or throwing trays of food at the force field surrounding his cell. At Hordak’s insistence, the prisoner had been given all the comforts, a soft bed, a bathroom with hot water for bathing, a writing desk, and a shelf with several books. His uniform had been exchanged for a green tunic and breeches in fine Etherian fabrics. 

When Hordak arrived, the clone cowered in the corner, arms clasping his knees, rocking back and forth. 

“He hasn’t moved for hours. Just keeps ranting about the glory of Horde Prime and basking in his Light,” the young guard on duty advised. 

“Leave us. I wish to speak to the prisoner alone.” Hordak watched as the tempo of the clone’s rocking increased. 

“I don’t think Queen Glimmer would approve, but I’m not going to argue. I’ll be outside if you have any trouble.” 

Once he was alone with the prisoner, Hordak paced the length of the force field. “What is your name, clone?” 

“Horde Prime does not permit names. We are his acolytes, his faithful servants, made in his image.” The clone closed his eyes, as if he wrestled with particularly painful memories. 

“Horde Prime is dead. You have not yet chosen a name as your brothers have? What do your brothers call you?” 

“They have all forsaken our master. I will NOT give in. I am only Clone 345.” The clone pressed his hands to his temples. 

“Then that is what I will call you. Tell me, 345, why did you attack me when you knew there was little chance of success?” 

345 didn't seem to hear the question, though his ears twitched as if straining to listen for distant voices.

“My mind is quiet. How do you live without the voices, the thoughts and memories?” 345 shook from head to toe. 

“When I slipped through the portal and landed in Etheria, I suffered greatly, but over time, the feelings of isolation passed. I gave myself a name and over time I learned to reach out to others, to value individuals.” 

“Gone. All gone. I can’t take the silence anymore. I don’t want to be alone.” The clone's hands curled into fists so tightly that blood trickled from his palms onto the floor. 

“You needn’t be alone. You can be placed with an Etherian family or with one of your brothers.” 

345 stood and stalked over to the force field, bringing his hands up to strike it in frustration. “I won’t stay with rebels and I won’t allow myself to be named.” 

A voice from the ceiling suddenly shouted. “Oh, that’s no good. I was thinking you look like a Jeremy to me.” 

Hordak looked up at the ceiling to see Entrapta hanging from an air vent by her hair. In a moment, Wrong Hordak slipped out to be grasped by Entrapta’s left ponytail. “Hello, Brother!” he shouted, the white shock of hair even more tousled than usual. 

Hordak pressed a hand to his face and shook his head. “I thought we agreed I would interview the prisoner alone.” 

“We did, but then Wrong Hordak stopped by the lab and he really wanted to meet his brother and we decided you might want some help.” She shrugged and lowered them both to the floor. 

“Who are these people.?Do you intend to torture me?” The clone looked slightly unnerved at seeing all the instruments Entrapta had tucked into her apron. 

“These are my friends, Entrapta and Kadroh.” Both of them waved and grinned. 

“I can’t wait to scan Jeremy.” Entrapta approached the forcefield, brandishing a handheld scanner that made 345’s eyes widen. “Now, don’t be nervous. I promise it doesn’t hurt.” 

The scanner beeped in a few moments and Entrapta muttered, “Fascinating,” as she studied the readings. “His genetic makeup is no different than any other clone. No signs of genetic abnormalities. He's a little dehydrated and underweight so I'll be making a lot of soup, but otherwise normal.” 

“What is she saying?” 345 asked. 

“Congratulations, Jeremy. You’re in perfect health,” Entrapta explained. 

“It would be a mercy if I were allowed to die,” the clone replied, eyes dull and ears droopy. 

“My brother must not talk like this. Entrapta and her friends rescued me and taught me about relaxing and friendship and how to make Etherian puff pastries and how wonderful it is to be free. Perhaps you need a hug, brother.” Wrong Hordak stepped forward, arms open and 345 recoiled in horror. 

“Wrong Hordak--there’s a forcefield there.” Entrapta’s warning was a second too late as his arms were blocked by the forcefield. “He’s still learning,” she said, placing an arm around him. 

“I too felt alone when my link to the hivemind was severed. I was lost. Now, I have a family, each one of them different.” Wrong Hordak put an arm around Hordak and Entrapta and squeezed tightly. 

“Differences can be beautiful.” Entrapta laughed as Emily and Julie fell from the air vent moments later, eager to join the others.


End file.
